


KUWATA

by specifiedtrash



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 18:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3299006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/specifiedtrash/pseuds/specifiedtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody gets their memory back from the trauma of seeing Leon’s execution. Ishimaru, Leon and Mondo-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	KUWATA

Before anyone could react, a metal collar had clapped down over Leon’s neck and yanked him off. They’d watched in shock and horror while he’d been pelted down. No one answered his screams or cries for help. No one touched the steel cage to see if it was even locked. No one tried climbing the chainlink or yelling back at him. Not one person had tried to help him.

Then, all at once, the cage had dropped loose and swung open. Painful memories came back all at once. Maybe it was the shock of what they’d seen, maybe it was a flaw in making them forget. Maybe, considering who it was, they couldn’t let memories go that easily. Their minds had been fighting them and trying to let them remember for weeks now, and after seeing that display, the walls had crumbled and memories returned.

Ishimaru was the first to react. “Kuwata-kun!” He shrieked, and bolted into the cage.

"Kyoudai, wait!" Mondo ran after him. "That fuckin’ machine might still be goin’!" It let out some smoke, but nothing else. Ishimaru yanked at the chains around Leon, tears filling his eyes and pouring over his cheeks like waterfalls. The others slowly, timidly, joined them in the cage.

Ishimaru didn’t care about his kyoudai’s protests. He remembered everything now. He remembered catching Leon pulling the fire alarms, chasing him down the halls at a brisk powerwalk and congratulating him after the school’s talent show. He remembered talking about callouses from playing guitar, their favourite kind of smoothies. He remembered helping Leon when he’d been caught without an umbrella, going for lunch with him and playing videogames at his house with Mondo. It all came back at once and it was like it had never been gone.

_Why hadn’t he remembered before?!_

The only sound was Ishimaru’s crying and his yanking despertately at the chains around Leon. After a moment, Mondo put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kyoudai, I…" What could he say? It was obvious they were too late. Leon’s arms and neck hung limply from their bonds, his face down and to the side, eyes still shocked and open. Mondo put a hand on Ishimaru’s shoulder and kept his face down to grimace. It was a nasty sight. He remembered snowball fights with Leon, the only kind of fight he could never beat the redhead at. He remembered telling him about Chuck, saying his beard looked stupid, being told he was going to be Leon’s wingman. He remembered Leon’s birthday. Getting drunk out of their minds and Leon knocking over his motorcycle. Ishimaru catching them drunk and not knowing what was wrong with them.

Ishimaru was shaking, but he couldn’t keep pulling at the chains. There was no strength in him right now. He thought he might fall over, he felt so weak. Mondo pushed him aside and looked up at Leon. The only time he could remember looking _up_  at the little punk. He cracked his knuckles and swallowed hard. Alright, he could do this. He gave the chains a rough yank, but it only served to constrict it around the rest of Leon and make him awkwardly straighten and drip blood.

It took them a while to get him down, and Mondo carried the limp body back to Leon’s room. What else would they do with him? Mondo set him on his bed, hoping to make him look like how they remembered. The way he laid back and tossed a ball in the air while he idly talked about girls and Mondo rummaged through his CDs.

It didn’t work. He looked uncomfortable and twisted, all his limbs were in the wrong place and his eyes were still wide and horrified. Then there was the blood. Fuck, there was a lot of blood. His favourite jacket was ruined. Mondo remembered almost spilling on it once, and Leon had threatened him. He’d just laughed and the two had rough-housed while Ishimaru shouted at them to stop before someone was hurt.

Ishimaru’s uniform, too. When he’d been trying to get Leon down, blood had stained his uniform beyond salvation. The two sat in Leon’s room, now, still too shocked to know what to do. Ishimaru quietly cried beside the bed and Mondo didn’t let himself show an emotion. Just a cold expression, even though he could feel tears in his eyes. Leon was a jerk, but still one of his best friends.

An eternity of stunned silence passed. Mondo kept looking at Leon, waiting for him to spring back up and laugh and say he had them good that time, that they were so easy to fool, they should’ve seen the looks on their faces.

But he didn’t. He never would. He just lay there staring into nothing and leaking blood. His white blanket turned into a shoddy flag of Japan while his two best friends tried to accept it was real.

"We have to bury him," Ishimaru said, in a quivering voice. He couldn’t open his eyes. He knew what was in front of him, what he’d see. And he didn’t want to.

"Kyoudai, don’t you think it’s kind of soon for that?" Mondo uncrossed his arms and tried to look at Ishimaru, with genuine concern on his face.

"No," Ishimaru shook his head. "I-it will have to be soon. Otherwise, he’ll just… Just…" He couldn’t get out the words. "Otherwise, he’ll rot!" He shouted, louder than he’d meant to. "He’ll rot and shrivel and smell terrible! We have to bury him right away!" Mondo didn’t know what to say.

"Alright," after a pause, he agreed, and stood back up. "I’ll get a shovel." Ishimaru just sobbed.

"There is nowhere to dig!" He cried. "We can’t bury him!" Fuck, he was right. There wasn’t anywhere they could get at any dirt.

"I’ll think of somethin’, alright? Just go back to your room. Try to get some sleep." Mondo patted his shoulder and turned to leave. There was nothing for him here. Just his dead friend staring at him like a fish on a sheet of ice.

But neither of them could sleep. Ishimaru didn’t want to be alone, and neither did Mondo, in honesty. But he wouldn’t admit to it. He was just there for his kyoudai, not himself. They sat in the cafeteria, staring at nothing and talking about Leon.

"Remember when he was bitten by that snake?" Ishimaru had asked. "He thought it was venomous."

"He wouldn’t stop yellin’ until I said I’d suck out the poison," Mondo added, with a bit of a laugh. "I didn’t, ‘course. I just  _said_  I would so he’d shut up.”

"How many times did we have to take him to the infirmary?" Ishimaru asked, with a bit of a smile.

"I couldn’t tell ya. Too many. That kid was always gettin’ himself hurt. Remember when he caught on fire?"

"I still don’t know what started that."

"Neither does he," Mondo had laughed at first, but quickly dropped it and went back to staring at his fingers.

Morning came without either of them getting up from their seats. With their memory back, they knew who to blame for this, but it seemed like Leon held higher priority right now. They weren’t going to leave anyway. That’s what they’d already agreed to, before losing their memory. By that afternoon they’d managed their way to the gardens. It wasn’t much of a grave site, but it had dirt they could cover him with. What else were they to do with their dead? Keep them in the morgue forever, like stored meat?

Mondo had picked up Leon’s limp body and placed him on the ground. Ishimaru had closed his eyes, while his own wouldn’t stop dripping tears. No one could bring themselves to change Leon or clean him for this. He’d never be seen with his hair like this. It felt wrong to see him in such a state of dissarry, when he’d always been so particular about how he was presented.

Mondo had taken a shovel from the shed and started digging. After a couple times, he took off his gang jacket to keep it from getting dirty.

They didn’t have any sort of coffin. It was better this way, he would decompose faster without, and they didn’t have the space to waste. No one would say it aloud, but they knew the body had to vanish as quickly as possible. The dirt was surprisingly deep here, and Mondo needed a hand to get out of the hole he’d dug himself into. He brushed the dirt from himself, but his wifebeater was marked in spots of Leon’s blood, dirt, and his own sweat. This shirt was as ruined as Leon’s jacket.

It was Mondo, again, that had carefully picked up his rag doll of a friend and gently set him in the hole. He tried to straighten his arms a little, make him seem more natural. Turn his head so it wasn’t so awkwardly turned back. At least so it looked like he was standing at attention. But it did nothing, he just looked like a posed corpse. Mondo climbed back out and wiped his face. He tried to keep looking tough, always strong like his brother had taught him, but the smudge on his eyeliner gave him away.

Ishimaru gave the eulogy in a shaken, but strong voice. He talked about Leon’s best traits, that he’d be remembered as a good person that passionately chased after his dreams (and sometimes skirts, too). That he’d have punched Ishimaru for saying it, but his baseball skills were unmatched and the records he’d set would never be broken. That the name Kuwata would hold equal weight in music and baseball, and no one in either field wouldn’t know who he was.

It was an exaggerated speech, but Mondo couldn’t stand to hear it. He kept at the back, head down and eyes covered by his pompadour. That stupid kid. That stupid,  _stupid_  kid. Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to get himself killed like that? Mondo quietly left before Ishimaru finished speaking.

There was a new dent in his bedroom wall before Mondo came back with red eyes he wouldn’t acknowledge. He shoved the dirt overtop of Leon, when Ishimaru had finished his speech.

"Goodbye, Kuwata." Mondo had shakily muttered, just loud enough for Leon himself to hear. Once he was done, Ishimaru hugged him tightly and cried into his disgusting wifebeater. Mondo let him cry and stayed strong for him. He had to stay strong. He was strong. Stronger than anyone. The spot was marked with a big rock that had KUWATA written on it in black marker. It would wash off before anyone could forget who it was.

After their shoddy ceremony, nobody could eat. A few picks, nothing more than a bird would’ve taken.

Ishimaru was still in his bloodied uniform that night. He’d cried more into Mondo, they’d talked more about Leon and the things they remembered him doing. The way he stuck out his tongue just to show off his piercing. How Ishimaru had scolded him for keeping his labret. He knew that was bad for his teeth.

Eventually, though, Ishimaru had fallen asleep. Finally. The poor kid needed it. He’d taken it harder than anyone. Despite how tired he himself was, Mondo stopped by that rock once Ishimaru had fallen asleep. He’d just stared at it for a while. The sloppy capital lettering, KUWATA. As though anyone would forget. After a while Mondo broke. He screwed his eyes shut and yelled at the rock and disturbed patch of dirt.

"Ya fuckin’ idiot!" Was all he could say. "Ya fucked up! Ya fuckin’ stupid little brat!" He fell to his knees and held his face in his hands. No one would see this, but he was still ashamed to be so weak. No one could see this. "Kuwata, ya fuckin’ _idiot!!_ ”

The next morning, Ishimaru woke up feeling much better. Wet salt on his face didn’t let him forget, but a little sleep could do wonders. He showered, changed, brushed his teeth and hair. For a moment he paused in front of the mirror. His old self again, just a bit more tired. He couldn’t afford to keep acting like that. What would the others do without him? No, he was going to be okay. He took a final deep breath and left to meet with the rest for breakfast. That was the rule, after all.

When he got to their usual table, he was surprised to see Mondo alone there. Had he _ever_  arrived before Ishimaru? Not that he could remember, even with all his old memories back. But he looked tired, so tired, and he still had his stained wifebeater on. Had he slept at all?

Tired, but not sad. The glassy redness wasn’t in his eyes anymore. Just that tough, cold expression that matched his jacket and stance. His hair was loose, but not undone. A shower would probably do him wonders. Ishimaru sat beside him and looked at him with a stern expression meant to be empathetic.

Mondo glanced back without turning his head, just showed a sliver of teeth like a dog’s snarl.

"Not in the mood, Kyoudai," was all he said. Ishimaru reluctantly nodded. What had happened to him last night? The others slowly gathered, like usual. A little rattled, but alright.

Except for one. Ishimaru did a mental rolecall. “Where is Fujisaki-kun?” He’d asked in a demanding, authoritative voice that suited him better than his uniform. The others traded glances and shrugs. Mondo looked away.

No one could see him being so weak.


End file.
